The Girl With No Past
by The Rising Moon
Summary: A girl with unknown parentage lives at Hadrian's Wall and comes to know and love the knights...TristanOC
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

I do not remember my mother or father. I do not remember what they looked like, what their voices sounded like, or what their touch felt like. They were supposed to be the most important people in my life, and they were supposed to love me like only they could, but never would.

I do not yearn for them.

For how can I miss what I never had in the first place?

I remember Romulus Saelna. It would be applying unnecessary emotional attachment to say he was the father I never had, because he wasn't. He merely gave me what I needed to survive. The only effort-given thing he had done for me was to teach me how to fight and ride, and even then it was to save himself effort should I get into a fight. He didn't even name me. Needless to say, I did not cry when he died.

I remember Vanora. She and her family had moved to Hadrian's Wall when I was six and she eight. We became the closest of friends, and it had been her who had given me my name: Luna. She said that my fondness for watching the moon made the name 'Luna' an obvious choice, and to this day I carry that name. She was the sister I never had.

I remember the Sarmatian knights who came to the fort when I was twelve, and they themselves mere thirteen- or fourteen-year-olds. They discovered my prowess in fighting when one of them came upon me training in the courtyard. In time, they all became like brothers to me. I hold a special place in my heart for one of them though: Tristan. He was the one who saw me training and sparred with me. Proud I am to say that I kicked his arse!

The warrior spirit long instilled in me by a hard life eventually came out by the time the knights got their first mission. I insisted on coming, and when their commander; Arthur Castus had refused I followed them from a distance anyway, on the stallion I 'rescued' from the Roman soldiers. It was pointless to forbid me from coming, so every mission they had, I was right there as well.

When Vanora and Bors became a couple, I was beside myself with happiness for them. It certainly provided entertainment everyday, due to Lancelot's ribbing about how Vanora was secretly sleeping with him behind Bors' back.

Those years with Vanora and the knights were the best times of my life. But the time of the knights' service would eventually come to a close, and they would all leave. The knights would go to Sarmatia and Arthur would go to Rome. Vanora would definitely go with Bors, and I would be here by myself once again.

I was proven wrong, though. Fifteen years later I was not left behind at Hadrian's Wall. Instead, a new nation was born and something happened to me that caused even more happiness within me then when I met the knights and Vanora. But I'm getting ahead of myself here. Like all good stories, I must start at the beginning…

xxx

**Lame prologue, I know. Other chapters will be better and longer, I promise you.**


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer – **I don't own King Arthur, just this plot and the OC.

_**xxx**_

The small valley was a vast plain of rich green grass and rolling hills. Forests of towering trees covered the tops of the hills, and a small clear brook ran through the middle. Seven knights and one rider crested one of the hills, gazing down at the green expanse of land.

On the dirt road, some distance from the hill, a caravan was making its way to Hadrian's Wall. Two horses drew one carriage which was surrounded them by Roman cavalry, each soldier dressed in full armor and carrying a sword. From time to time, the soldiers would swing their heads around to stare at the forests.

"As promised. The bishop's carriage," the long-haired knight; Gawain said.

Galahad; the youngest of the knights smiled. "Our freedom Bors," he said, eagerly looking at the caravan.

"Mmm," the short and bald knight murmured, closing his eyes. "I can almost taste it."

The only girl of the group smiled serenely. Luna was not a knight, but she was an incredibly close friend of all of them and knew how eager they were for freedom. "Your passage to Rome, Arthur," she said, addressing the Roman commander.

Suddenly, an arrow shot out of the forest and towards the caravan, lodging itself into the chest of a soldier and knocking him off his horse. The other soldiers drew their swords as blue-painted warriors began pouring from the woods, attacking the caravan.

"Woads," Tristan said. The eight riders rode towards the caravan quickly, bloodying many Woads as they went.

Luna quickly dismounted and drew her sword, wanting to get into the fray quickly. She had just sliced a Woad's head clear off its shoulders when she heard a war cry behind her. She spun around, just in time to see an arrow protruding from her would-be attacker's chest. She turned her head to see Tristan with his bow out and smiled cockily before throwing a dagger into the chest of a Woad about to attack him from behind.

The skirmish finished quickly. Her eyes suddenly caught sight of Arthur and a Woad coming up behind him with an axe in hand.

"Arthur, look out!" she shouted. The Roman commander whirled around pointed Excalibur at his neck. They exchanged a few words, and to Luna's and the other knights' surprise, he let the Woad go.

Shaking her head at the blue corpses strewn on the grass, she made her way over to the carriage and peered in. A man wearing the Bishop's robes sat there, with an arrow through his chest.

"What a bloody mess," Bors commented, pointing inside the carriage as Arthur walked over to them.

Arthur looked inside as well. "That's not the Bishop."

A soldier rode to the front, stopping right in front of the half-Roman commander. "Arthur," he cried gleefully. "Arthur Castus! Your father's image! I haven't seen you since childhood."

Arthur smiled. "Bishop Germanus," he said. "Welcome to Britain. I see your military skills are still of use to you." He cocked his head at the body of the decoy which the soldiers were now taking out of the carriage. "Your device worked."

"Ancient tricks," he laughed. "For an ancient dog." He turned to the seven riders behind Arthur. "And these are brave Sarmatian knights we have heard so much of in Rome," he said, scanning the knights. His gaze landed on Luna. "A woman?" he asked.

Luna kept her stare impassive. Instead, she aimed her arrow seemingly towards the Bishop, but was actually two inches off. She released the arrow, and watched as it flew past the Bishop's cheek and landed in the heart of a Woad who had been about to attack him. She turned her gaze back to Germanus. "At your service, sir," she said mockingly.

Arthur looked like he was trying to fight back a smile. "This is Luna," he said. "She is not a knight, but she is a very close friend of ours and is as much a knight as the others."

The Bishop said nothing and dismounted his horse. "I thought the Woads controlled north of Hadrian's Wall," he said, brushing the dirt off his arms.

Arthur nodded. "They do, but occasionally they venture south. Rome's anticipated withdrawal from Britain has only increased their daring."

"Woads?" the Bishop's aide asked.

Luna rolled her eyes. "British rebels who hate Rome."

"Men who want their country back," Galahad remarked obnoxiously.

The Bishop looked disconcerted. "Who leads them?"

"He's called Merlin," Lancelot answered. "A dark magician, some say."

Arthur turned to look at the silent scout. "Tristan, ride ahead and make sure the road is clear." He turned back to the Bishop, who was now climbing into the carriage. "Please do not worry, Bishop. We will protect you."

The Bishop turned to look at Arthur. "I have no doubt commander, no doubt…"

The Bishop's aide climbed the steps of the carriage as well. "Dozens don't worry me nearly so much as thousands," he muttered, only to have the carriage door shut in his face.

"Thousands?" Lancelot asked menacingly.

_**xxx**_

The knights and Luna rode up to another hill, watching as the Bishop's carriage entered the vicinity of the wall. Once again, the knights were discussing their freedom and what they would do after receiving their discharge.

"Well now that we're free men," Bors declared. "I'm gonna drink until I can't piss straight."

"You do that every night," Gawain commented matter-of-factly.

"I never could piss straight," said Bors. "Too much of myself to handle. Down there." He looked around at the other knights and Luna. "Well it's a problem. No really, it is. It's a problem. It's like—"

"—a baby's arm holding an apple," the other knights and Luna finished for him in unison. Laughter escaped their throats as they rode down the raised hill to ride in front of the Bishop's carriage.

"I don't like it, Rome," Galahad said suspiciously. "He's here to discharge us, why doesn't he just give us our papers?"

Gawain looked at his 'brother'. "Is this your happy face?" he asked jokingly. "Galahad, do you still not know the Romans? They don't scratch their asses without holding a ceremony."

"Why don't you just kill him," Bors said. "Then discharge yourself after?"

"I don't kill for pleasure. Unlike some," he said, looking pointedly at Tristan who was now looking more interested in the conversation.

"Well, you should try it someday," he said. "You might get a taste for it."

Luna wrinkled her nose. "I'll stick to drinking, thank you."

"You're welcome," Tristan replied, smirking at her. "But personally I've never met a woman who actually drank for pleasure."

Gawain laughed. "Not many women are like our Luna here."

"Plus it's probably a much more morally-correct way," Luna said dryly. "Compared to what you lot do for pleasure. But I'm sure the barmaids would disagree with me."

"Yes," agreed Galahad. "Especially Lancelot's barmaids. But back to the subject of the discharge, as of tomorrow this was all just a bad memory."

Bors made an 'oh' sound.

"I've often thought what going home would mean after all this. What will I do?" Gawain said. "It's different for Galahad. I have been in this life longer than the other. So much for home—it's not so clear in my memory."

"Well, you speak for yourself," Bors said. "It's cold back there. And everybody I know is dead and buried. Besides, I have, I think, a dozen children."

Luna laughed. "Eleven," she corrected. "For all the times you've bedded Vanora, Bors, you should at least remember the number of children you have."

Bors looked stunned for a minute, then quickly recovered. "You listen, when the Romans leave here, we'll have the run of all this place," he said, sweeping an arm in the direction of the fields where the serfs worked. "I'll be…governor of my own village, and Dagonet will be my personal guard, and royal arse-kisser, won't you, Dag?"

The tall knight ignored Bors pointedly.

"First thing I will do when I get home is to find myself a beautiful Sarmatian woman to wed," Gawain said.

Bors scoffed. "A beautiful Sarmatian woman? Why do you think we left in the first place?" He made a loud mooing sound, making all the knights laugh.

"What about you, Lancelot?" Bors continued. "What are you plans for home?"

"Let me answer this one," Luna said, mirth coating her voice. "You'll be spending a lot of time at Gawain's house 'visiting'—" she made air quotes on the word visiting "—his wife. I expect she'll welcome the company. How accurate does that sound?"

Lancelot smirked. "What psychic abilities have you hidden from us, Luna? That was a truly accurate account of what will transpire during my years of freedom."

"I see," Gawain said. "And what will I be doing?"

"Wondering at your good fortune that all your children look like me," Lancelot replied cheekily before falling in line with Arthur.

"Is that before or after I hit you with my axe?" Gawain muttered amidst Bors loud chuckles.

Luna looked up, seeing a familiar winged creature making its way towards the knights. She smiled as the hawk came into view and alighted on Tristan's outstretched arm. She dropped back in the line to ride next to him.

"Where you been now? Where you been?" he cooed to it, stroking it under its beak. Luna observed this with amusement and admiration in her eyes.

"If you were that affectionate with women, Tristan," she said as the hawk flew over to her and alighted on her outstretched arm. "You'd have bedded more women then Lancelot."

Tristan raised an eyebrow at his only other female friend besides his hawk. "What makes you think I haven't bedded as many women as Lancelot?" he asked.

"Barmaids love to gossip," came the simple answer.

**_xxx_**

"Welcome back Arthur," the knights squire; Jols said. "Lancelot." The knights and Luna dismounted and he and several other stable hands collected the reins.

"Bishop, please, my quarters have been made available for you," Arthur said.

The Bishop nodded. "Yes, I must rest."

Luna rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, I'm sure riding in that carriage has made you _so_ tired," she muttered.

Suddenly, the sound of a slap rang in the air, making her turn around and see Bors and his redheaded lover; Vanora. Apparently she had given him one hell of a backhand. Vanora spotted Luna and waved her over, hugging her tight.

"Welcome back Luna," she greeted the girl warmly, only to be pulled back by Bors.

"Oh my little flower," he groaned. "Such passion." He kissed Vanora deeply, earning them disgusted looks from Luna and the children.

"Good Lord, you two," said Luna as she walked over to the other knights. "There are kids here."

Bors broke away from Vanora, looking down at the children. "Where's my Gilly?" he asked. He spotted the boy and picked him up.

"You've been fighting?" he asked sternly.

"Yes."

"You've been winning?"

"Yes."

Bors smiled and tapped the child's nose affectionately. "That's my boy. Come on all my other bastards!" he yelled, wrapping an arm around Vanora's shoulders and leading them to who-knows-where.

**_xxx_**

"Nice aim, Luna," complimented Galahad as Luna sat down on her seat at the round table next to Tristan. "You're as good as our silent scout over here."

"What are you talking about?" she said with an innocent smile. "I missed."

The table roared with laughter****until the Bishop's aide, Horton, entered the room. He stopped, shocked, at the sight of the round table. "Bishop Gnaeus Germanus," Horton announced in an incredulous tone. The Bishop entered with a smile on his face that disappeared at the sight of the round table.

"A round table, what sort of evil is this?" hissed Horton in Jols' ear.

"Arthur says for men to be men, they must first all be equal," answered Jols.

The Bishop's eyes examined the table and once again fell upon Luna. "What is she doing here?" he asked maliciously.

"Luna has fought by our side since we first became knights, Bishop," Arthur replied. "She is as much a knight as any of us, as I explained earlier."

"I was given to understand that there would be more of you," said the Bishop, completely ignoring what Arthur said.

"There were," he answered. "We have been fighting here for fifteen years, Bishop."

The Bishop nodded. "Of course," he said, lifting several cups from a silver platter and passing them around. There wasn't one for Luna, but Jols handed her one and rolled his eyes at the Bishop.

"Arthur and his knights have served with courage to maintain the honor of Rome's empire on this last outpost of our glory," the Bishop continued. "Rome is most indebted. To you, noble knights, your final days as servants to the Empire."

Lancelot looked up from his drink. "Day," he corrected. "Not days."

The Bishop merely smiled and sat down. "The Pope's taken a personal interest in you," he said. "He inquires after each of you, and is curious to know if your knights have converted toward our Savior, or—?"

"They retain the religion of their forefathers," Arthur interrupted. "I've never questioned that."

"Oh, of course. They are pagans," the Bishop said, making the knights shift in their seats somewhat uneasily. "For our part, the church has deemed these beliefs innocence, but you Arthur, your path to God is thru Pelagius?"

"He took my father's place for me," explained Arthur. "His teachings on free will and equality have been of great influence. I look forward to our reunion in Rome."

The Bishop smiled sycophantically. "Rome awaits your arrival with great anticipation! You are a hero! In Rome, you will live out your days in honor." He smiled. "And wealth," he added pointedly.

Lancelot looked away, disgusted.

"Alas," the Bishop sighed. "Alas, we are all but players in an ever-changing world. Barbarians from every corner are almost at Rome's door." He took the box with the discharge papers from Horton. "Because of this, Rome and the Holy Father, has decided to remove ourselves from indefensible outposts, such as Britain."

The knights slowly stood in protest, and Luna fingered the hilt of the dagger strapped to her knee. She was getting very tempted.

"What will become of Britain is not our concern anymore," continued the Bishop. "I suppose the Saxons will claim it soon."

"Saxons?"

"Yes," the Bishop answered. "In the north, a massive Saxon incursion has begun."

"Saxons only claim what they kill," said Lancelot slowly.

"And only kill everything," Gawain added.

Galahad looked outraged. "So you'll just…leave the land to the Woads. I risked my life for nothing."

"The other knights died for nothing," Luna growled.

The Bishop smiled strenuously. "Gentlemen—" he tipped the box with six scrolls of parchment inside to show it to the knights. "—your discharge papers with safe conduct throughout the Roman Empire." He set the box down. "But first, I must have a word with your commander."

None of the knights or Luna moved a muscle.

"In private."

Arthur looked around. "We have no secrets."

The Bishop slammed down the lid of the box containing the papers.

"Come," said Lancelot. "Let's leave Roman business to Romans."

As Luna passed by Bors she squeezed his shoulder. "Let it go, Bors," she said, walking out of the room with the other knights.

_**xxx**_

Luna amusedly observed the scene before her eyes. Galahad was playing a knife-throwing game with Gawain, trying to impress the bar wenches that sat near him. Galahad laughed as Gawain's knife landed somewhere way off mark. Lancelot was gambling with some Roman soldiers, and loosing badly from what she could see.

"Who wants another drink?" asked Vanora. She passed by the table Lancelot was gambling at and he pulled her into his lap and attempted to kiss her neck.

"When are you going to leave Bors and come home with me, huh?" he asked drunkenly.

Vanora slapped him hard. "My lover is watching you," she said through gritted teeth. Taking pity on her friend, Luna walked over and whacked Lancelot on the back of his head, making him let go of Vanora. The older woman gave Luna a grateful look and bustled off to fetch more ale.

Bors observed this all and looked suspiciously at the baby in his arms who was seemingly laughing at him. "You look nothing like him," he declared, much to Lancelot's amusement. "You're all Bors."

Galahad chucked a knife at a board and surprisingly it landed relatively in the center. Gawain blew him a raspberry. Tristan took a knife from his arsenal of weapons and threw it at the board. It landed in the butt of Galahad's knife.

"Tristan," Galahad said.

"How do you do that?" finished Gawain.

"I aim for the middle," Tristan answered, sounding slightly drunk.

Luna smirked and walked over to Tristan's side. She pulled a knife out of her boot and chucked it at the board, where it landed in the butt of Tristan's knife.

"I aim slightly to the left," she said, contradicting Tristan's earlier statement with a grin on her face.

Galahad whistled under his breath in admiration as he examined the knives. "She's better than you, Tristan," he joked. Tristan rolled his eyes at Luna.

Meanwhile, Bors was convincing his lover to sing. "Here, please," Bors pleaded after handing his newest bastard to Vanora. "Sing."

"No!"

"It's a last—"

"No!"

"Come on—"

"I'm trying to work!" grumbled Vanora.

Apparently Bors had enough as he pulled Vanora to the center of the bar. "SHUT UP!" he yelled and a silence fell over the tavern. Everyone was now watching Bors and Vanora intently. "Vanora will sing."

"Sing about home," Galahad chimed.

"Don't drop the baby," Gawain added, laughing.

Vanora sighed and relented, rocking her baby as she sang.

_Land of bear and land of eagle_

_Land that gave us birth and blessing_

_Land that calls us ever homewards_

_We will go home across the mountains_

_We will go home_

_We will go home_

_We will go home across the mountains_

_We will go home, singing our song_

_We will go home…_

Luna sighed deeply at Vanora's choice of song. She looked around at the knights, who were all transfixed at the lyrics. Bors was mouthing the words silently, while the others just stared with blank looks. They were thinking of Sarmatia, and the families and friends they had left behind and would see once again, if they were still alive.

_Hear our singing_

_Hear our longing_

_We will go home across the mountains_

_We will go home_

_We will go home_

Jols suddenly noticed Arthur and called out to him. The knights made their way to their commander, laughing and cheerful. She sighed at the commander's despaired face, and joined the men flocking around their commander.

"Knights," he said. "Brothers-in-arms, your courage has been tested beyond all limits, but I must ask you now for one further trial."

"Drink," Bors joked, pretending to lift a jug of ale to his lips.

"We must leave on a final mission for Rome before our freedom can be granted," Arthur said. The knights laughed, clearly thinking it was a joke. Luna and Lancelot looked at Arthur, knowing looks on their faces. Both knew what was coming next.

"Above the wall," Arthur continued. "There is a Roman family in need of rescue. They are trapped by Saxons. Our orders are to secure their safety."

Bors frowned. "Let Romans take care of their own."

"Above the wall is Woad territory," Gawain pointed out.

"Our duty to Rome, if it ever was a duty, is done," sneered Galahad. "Our pact with Rome is done."

Bors looked outraged. "Every knight here has laid his life on the line for you! For you!" He pointed at Arthur. "And instead of freedom, you want more blood? Our blood? You think more of Roman blood than you do ours!"

"Bors, these are our orders. We leave at first light and when we return, your freedom will be waiting for you. A freedom we can embrace with—"

"I AM A FREE MAN!" Bors roared, causing an eerie silence to fall over the tavern. "I WILL CHOOSE MY OWN FATE!"

"Yeah, yeah, we're all going to die someday," Tristan said calmly, cutting a sliver from his apple. "If it's death by a Saxon hand that frightens you, stay home."

"Well if you're so eager to die, you can die right here!" Galahad as he attempted to strangle Tristan. Lancelot immediately stepped between them, effectively stopping the younger knight from strangling the scout.

"I'VE GOT SOMETHING TO LIVE FOR!" Galahad bellowed.

"You know it's not Arthur's fault your freedom has been withheld," reasoned Luna. "You've waited fifteen years. You can wait a few more days. Besides, if you don't go, you don't get your papers.

"Easy for you to say!" Galahad yelled. "You don't have to go off to Gods-know-where every time Rome asks you to!"

Luna looked at him coldly. "I don't, but I do. I will go as well." The knights looked ready to protest, but she shook her head. "I'm going," she said more firmly.

"The Romans have broken their word. We have the word of Arthur," Dagonet said calmly." That is good enough. I'll prepare." He started to walk off, Tristan and Luna following him. "Bors, you coming?"

"OF COURSE I'M COMING!" Bors shouted, following Dagonet. "CAN'T LET YOU GO ON YOUR OWN! YOU'LL ALL GET KILLED! I'M JUST SAYING WHAT YOU'RE ALL THINKING!" He paused for a moment. "Vanora'll kill me," he muttered to himself.

"And you, Gawain?" Arthur asked.

"I'm with you," he answered before looking at the reluctant younger knight beside him. "Galahad as well."

The youngest knights stared in disbelief at Gawain before emptying his jug of ale and throwing it at Arthur's feet, smashing into pieces and walking off with Gawain. Arthur sighed deeply and left as well, leaving Lancelot alone.


	3. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer** – See previous chapter.

_**xxx**_

_Back at Hadrian's Wall:_

Vanora curiously examined a chest she had found in the fortress hall. While in there cleaning up with another maid, she had found it on a shelf in the back of the room, rapidly gathering dust. The chest was relatively small and decorated with thin gold linings. It wasn't locked.

"Might as well open it," she said to herself, leaning back on her chair in her room. She lifted the top of the chest open to see a scroll, tied with a thin red ribbon. "Wonder what this is," she said softly, taking the scroll out of the box, before a little bundle of hyperactivity leapt onto her lap.

"What's that mommy?" Gilly asked breathlessly. "A story?"

Vanora laughed and ruffled the boy's curly black locks. "It might be. I found this in the fortress hall. Do you want to read it with me?"

Gilly smiled widely. "Okay!" Vanora laughed again and untied the thin ribbon, the yellow parchment unrolling in front of her. At the top of the paper were the words

_**FROM THE NOTES OF ROMULUS SAELNA; ROMAN COMMANDING OFFICER**_

in bold red ink. Right underneath that was text, written in clear slanted script.

_Twenty-seven years ago. Ayny Nuyda; a Roman woman who had everything. She was rich, as her father was a favored patron of the Pope. She was also the most beautiful woman at Hadrian's Wall, with her raven locks and deep gray-blue eyes._

_She was not only a beauty and a wealth. She was also a formidable warrior. Her skills in archery and sword-fighting matched those of the famed Sarmatian knights, stationed here at the wall. In fact, she would often challenge them to a contest of skills, and rarely did she loose._

_Her beauty attracted many, but her skills of war shied them away. All but one; a Sarmatian knight by the name of Dharyl. Dharyl was the perfect man in the eyes of many women. He was handsome, and skilled in both the sword and the bow._

_Eventually, Ayny grew to love Dharyl as well, and it wasn't too long before Dharyl took Ayny to his bed, taking her maidenhead and making her his._

_But not all good things could last forever. It was the end of Dharyl's term, and there was no way Ayny's father would have allowed her to follow her lover to Sarmatia. Ayny and Dharyl grew melancholy with despair, but nothing could be done._

_A few weeks after the knights were given their discharge, Dharyl went back to Sarmatia, without Ayny._

_A few months later, Ayny discovered something. Something that was the fruit of her one night passion with her lover. She was pregnant._

_Overjoyed and terrified, Ayny made her parents believe that she was going to Rome for a few months, so that she may search for a husband to wed, when in reality, she was going to Sarmatia. Happy that they're daughter was going to forget all about her Sarmatian lover, they agreed._

_After six months, in which Ayny grew considerably bigger, she arrived at Sarmatia and searched out Dharyl. But just as she was about to ask a local where she may find him, she saw him herself, with his arms around a woman's waist and resting on her swollen belly._

_The woman was his wife. He had moved on, while she pined away longing for him._

_Heartbroken, she returned to Hadrian's Wall, where she birthed her child in secrecy: it was a girl. The babe was beautiful, with her mother's midnight hair, pale skin, and stormy eyes. There was no trace of her father in her._

_Ayny was terrified. She did not want to go to her parents for help. They would surely condemn her. So she did the only logical thing that her mind could think up:_

_She left her baby at the wall and killed herself._

"Poor woman," Vanora mumbled, as she rolled up the scroll and replaced it in the chest, Gilly staring curiously at his mother. She was not stupid; she knew who Ayny's daughter was. But would she tell her?

**_xxx_**

Luna smiled as dappled moonlight fell onto the forest floor, illuminating the eight riding figures. Moonrise was her favorite time of the day; everything was calm, peaceful, quiet, and cool. The forest was no exception tonight.

The calm of her mind during the ride was broken when she heard the familiar sound of a bowstring being stretched, most likely being fitted with an arrow. That could only mean one thing.

"Woads," she said quietly to Arthur. "They're tracking us."

"Where?" Arthur asked, just as calmly.

This time, it was Tristan who answered. "Everywhere."

Without warning, arrows shot out of the trees, barbed wire attached to the shafts. The arrows embedded themselves in the trees, making the barbed wire criss-cross and blocking their path.

"Get back!" Lancelot and Bors shouted.

The eight riders turned their horses around, trying to find an alternate way out of the forest. Arthur led them towards a small trail only to have a wooden fence spring up, blocking it. They returned to their original place, only to find themselves surrounded by Woads. They each drew their swords, and Luna and Tristan notched arrows into their bows and aimed it at the Woads.

Strangely, the Woads didn't move.

"What are you waiting for?" Gawain yelled. Luna shot him a look that said _'Please don't get us killed!'_

A horn blew in the distance. The Woads looked at one another, then back at Arthur, before retreating back into the woods, disappearing into the mass of green and brown.

"Inish," Dagonet growled once the Woads were gone. "Devil ghosts."

Galahad looked confused. "Why did they not attack?" he asked.

Arthur frowned. "Merlin doesn't want us dead."

_**xxx**_

From the shadows in the trees, Merlin watched Arthur and his knights stoically. He knew that maybe, these knights could help save Britain. If only they would realize that fighting for Rome would not be the answer. And if they were to realize that, they had to be spared.

"_We should have killed them, Merlin,"_ one of them hissed in the native language of the Woads.

Merlin shook his head. _"There might be a purpose for Artorius and his knights."_

"_Then why not kill the girl?"_ another one asked. _"She has no purpose. We do not need her to win the war against the Saxons."_

"_No,"_ Merlin said firmly. _"She is a dear friend of Arthur, and to kill her would make him, as well as his knights, turn against us. She is a formidable warrior. She can help."_

_**xxx**_

The knights were now taking shelter from the rain in a grove of trees, most of them wrapped up in cloaks and trying to keep warm. Luna was sitting beside the silent scout, leaning against his shoulder and half-asleep.

"Ugh, I can't wait to leave this island," groaned Gawain. "If it's not raining, it's snowing. If it's not snowing, it's foggy."

"And that's the summer," Lancelot added.

"Rain is good," said Bors. "Washes all the blood away."

"Doesn't help the smell," said Dagonet.

Luna raised her head from Tristan's shoulder. "Then put soap in the clouds," she said jokingly before letting her head rest on Tristan's shoulder again.

Galahad smirked at them. "Is there anything going on between you two that we should know about?" he asked cheekily, making all the knights look at Tristan and Luna and then smirking as well.

Luna rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Aside from the fact that I'm sleepy and Tristan is the only one who isn't under the rain?"

"In denial, I see," Lancelot teased.

Luna glared at him. "If you don't shut up, I'll cut of your balls with a dull knife and have them for breakfast tomorrow," she threatened.

Lancelot winced and held up his hands in surrender. "Hey Bors," he said, deciding to leave Luna and Tristan alone as he valued his virility. "You intend on taking Vanora and all your little bastards back home?"

Bors looked at Lancelot. "I'm trying to avoid that decision," he said. "By getting killed." He leaned over to Dagonet, shaking his head. "Dagonet," he said. "She wants to get married, give the children names."

"Women," Tristan said, earning him a hard jab in the ribs from Luna and making the knights laugh. He rubbed his side slightly before continuing. "The children already have names, don't they?"

"Just Gilly," Bors said. "It was too much trouble, so we gave the rest of them numbers."

"That's interesting. I thought you couldn't count," teased Lancelot.

Bors smiled slightly. "You know, I never thought I'd get back home alive. Now that I've got the chance, I don't think I'd leave my children."

"You'd miss them too much," said Dagonet.

Bors nodded. "I'll take them with me. I like the little bastards. They mean something to me." He paused for a while. "Especially number three," he declared. "He's a good fighter."

Lancelot smirked. "That's because he's mine."

Gawain nearly spat out his drink as the knights and Luna laughed. Bors merely looked disgruntled. "I'm going for a piss," he muttered, standing up and walking away.

_**xxx**_

Tristan pensively observed his hawk. The wild creature was flying above the forest canopy, now that it had stopped raining. Her wings were dark against the pale full moon, as she soared on the wind, with nothing to hold her back. _'That might be what freedom is like.'_

He sighed deeply. For fifteen long years he had craved for the freedom long denied to him, and now it was so close, just a few days on horseback away, and he was having second thoughts about leaving.

Because for her.

He would be damned if he was the only knight re-thinking his decision to return to Sarmatia because of Luna. The girl was their closest friend besides each other, and even he; the silent and unemotional scout, had grown to like the proud and fierce woman.

'_And what a woman.'_

Tristan suddenly shot up from his comfortable place, staring wide-eyed at the dark in shock. Did he just think that? Not possible. _'I don't like women,'_ he told himself firmly. "I don't," he said quietly.

"You don't what?" asked a voice. Tristan didn't turn around. He knew who it was. Only one person out of all of them had soft footfalls and a voice like that.

Luna sat down next to him, smiling gently. "When I see someone talking to himself, I get curious," she said teasingly, leaning her head against his shoulder again. Tristan leaned his head against hers.

"I don't like this mission," he said unemotionally, grateful for the quick excuse. He really did not want to tell his closest friend that he was thinking more than friendly things about her.

Luna sighed. "Neither do I. But then again, if it means your freedom…" she trailed off.

"Yes," Tristan said. "Freedom."

"What's it like to fly?" Luna asked all of a sudden, staring at the hawk that fluttered thru the trees. "Is it as free, as liberated as the birds claim?"

Tristan half-smiled. "I imagine it would be something like that," he replied. "But how would you know what the birds claim?"

"Why would they spend so much time doing something if it pleases them not?" Luna answered. There was a moment of comfortable silence before Luna spoke again."When you are free, will you go home?"

"Yes," Tristan answered. "I will. And you? Will you go home, once you are free?"

Luna smiled. "Going home makes you free, does it not?"

"I suppose."

"Then I am already free, for I am home."

**_xxx_**

**This is slightly shorter than normal. Next chapter will be longer.**

**About the Tristan/Luna ship: If any of you think that their relationship is going too fast (Tristan thinking that he likes Luna, etc.), please remember that _they have known each other for fifteen years_. And in all that time, neither of them made a move. About time, don't you think?**

**I realize Tristan may be slightly OOC in this one, but look at the part of the A/N above that is bold and italicized.**

**Pronunciation of some names: **

**Ayny (Ahy-nee)**

**Dharyl (Dha-ril) **


End file.
